


Through Another's Eyes

by sparxwrites



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Body Worship, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gentle Sex, Goblins are sexy and no one can convince me (or Caleb) otherwise, Mirror Sex, Piercings, Self-Esteem Issues, Size Difference, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 12:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18031355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparxwrites/pseuds/sparxwrites
Summary: “Open your eyes,Liebchen,” says Caleb, softly, his breath hot against the floppy curve of one large, sensitive ear. “You should see us together. We look very nice, you know? You look very nice.”(In which Caleb attempts to show Nott what, exactly, he loves about her body, with the aid of a mirror and some... well-thought-out distraction.)





	Through Another's Eyes

“Open your eyes,  _Liebchen_ ,” says Caleb, softly, his breath hot against the floppy curve of one large, sensitive ear. “You should see us together. We look very nice, you know?  _You_  look very nice.”

Nott makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat, both a noise of consternation and of  _oh fuck oh fuck_. “Don’t want to,” she says. It sounds petty, and childish, and she’d  _agreed_  to this, but- the thought of opening her eyes makes her stomach twist, in an altogether less pleasant manner than Caleb’s finger does.

The lips against the sharp, awkward line of her jaw, pauses, as does the finger inside her. “...Nott. If you do not want to do this, then we can, we can stop, or-”

“No!” The word bursts out of her without her permission, without conscious thought. “No, it’s- it’s fine. And, and you paid for this nice room, and everything... It’s fine.” She wiggles impatiently, spreads her legs a little wider, scrunches her nose. The anxiety in the pit of her stomach  _squirms_ , a living thing, its hunger only barely suppressed by her arousal. “I’m just- being stupid, is all. I’ll look.” When he still doesn’t move, she bares her teeth, needle-thin and wicked-sharp, impatiently. “Keep going! It was just getting  _good_.”

Caleb makes a soft noise of concern - kisses her neck and mouths at the tip of ear, his worry evident in each careful press of his lips - but does, thankfully, start moving his finger again. Nott groans, pleased, and braces herself.

Reluctantly, she opens her eyes, and confronts the mirror on the wall opposite the end of the bed.

It is Caleb she notices first, very deliberately - pale skin dusted with freckles, pale blue eyes, reddish hair on his arms and legs and tied up in a small, scrappy ponytail so as not to fall in his eyes. His large nose and thin, soft lips are hidden behind one of her ears as he presses kisses to the sensitive skin there, and she shivers, keening softly with pleasure despite herself. The flickering of the candles casts him into half-darkness, lights his hair up copper, gives the wiry muscles of his legs far more definition than true to life with the aid of dark, pooling shadow. Down further, avoiding herself, there is her body settled between his legs, and his hand between her own spread legs.

She’d insisted he take his bandages off for this, refused to be the only one so  _exposed_ , and had been surprised when he’d agreed. The scars crawl down his arms, silver-pale and purple-red in turns against his skin, all the way to where the back of his hand is near-obscured by her thighs and the thick curls of the hair between her legs. She swallows, hard, and is silent for a moment as she’s torn between two urges - look away,  _look away_ , green skin and wiry hair and stretch marks and patches of skin so rough they look almost like scale; stare, because that’s Caleb’s finger  _inside_  her, the fascinating flash of it pumping in and out of her, wet-slick from her body and glinting in the candle-light.

“Ah, there we go,” says Caleb, easing his finger out of her and then back in again, slow and dragging. She feels his cock twitch, where it’s pressed up against her, trapped between the two of them blood-hot and silky-soft. The rumbling pride in his voice makes her chest warm, despite herself, and she shivers as the tip of his thumb flirts over her sensitive, swollen clit. “ _Da ist miene schöne Frau_.”

He rewards her for her bravery with a second finger, slipping it in alongside the first - and though she is wet and open enough to take it, they both groan. Nott from the extra stretch, extra sensation; Caleb from the way she clenches around him, greedy, demanding, wet enough to soak the sheets beneath them, as he sinks in slow up to the second knuckle.

Distracted as she is by the pleasure, she can avoid it no longer, and her eyes slide across the mirror to look at her own reflection.

It nearly makes her flinch. Her eyes are huge, yellow, with reddish cat-slit pupils. They’re almost luminous in the low light with eyeshine, though not quite enough to distract from the deep green-grey skin, the wide mouth and needle teeth, the circle of gold through her nose.

She shudders, wincing, and the creature in the mirror shudders too; ears twitching, clawed beast-toes curling, fingers ripping shreds into the sheets as she grips them too tight. The rest of her is not so bad, not so different from how she was - wiry muscle, a little softness to her stomach, small breasts and large, dark areola around gold-pierced nipples, a slight waist and a lack of noticeable hips - but the green is pervasive, everywhere,  _unpleasant_.

Caleb nips lightly at the thin top of one ear, presses his thumb in a firm circle around her clit - and Nott watches, amazed, as the ugly creature in the mirror squirms and  _keens_ , throws its head back with pleasure against Caleb’s shoulder, and is... transformed. 

For a second, she thinks she  _sees_  it - what he sees in her, what he is trying to show her. The beauty and elegance and  _desirability_  that he sees in a body she hates so much.

Her eyes are amber-gold, and flicker with the candle’s fire. The harsh shadows accentuate the length of her neck, the glitter of her piercings, the oilslick black-green of her hair. Her teeth are still monstrous, but the  _exciting_  kind, shark-sharp and shining; she understands, for a second, why it delights Caleb so when she sucks his cock, the thrill he gets from tamed razors an inch from his delicate skin. And her ears... they are soft, expressive, pinned back and trembling with pleasure as she clenches around Caleb’s fingers and grinds against his thumb.

Then she settles, and it is gone, and she is left gasping and unsteady and  _confused_ , a tightness in her chest.

“...I still like it better when I’m sitting on your face,” she says, petulantly, trying to sound as haughty as she can with a voice that cracks and squeaks, and with two human-thick fingers making  _obscene_  sounds as they pump in and out of her. The shine of Caleb’s fingers in the mirror makes her lick her lips, unconsciously, and Caleb groans at the sight. When he shifts behind her, she’s reminded again of his arousal, hard cock pressed up against the line of her spine and leaking wet against her skin.

“Do you want to change?” Caleb’s voice breaks halfway through the sentence, breathless, as she very deliberately arches against him, grinds the top of her ass against the base of his cock. “Oh, mmh, you are- teasing me.” He shivers, responds by rutting forward against her with a gentle rock of his hips and pushing his fingers in another inch deeper until she  _squeals_  with the fullness of it. “But, ah, I do not mind if you want to switch.”

She thinks, for a moment - watches the goblin in the mirror as she does so, the faint squint of those lamp-yellow eyes with consideration, the parted lips and heaving chest as Caleb curls his fingers  _just right._ He lets his other hand stray to one breast and catch a nipple between the knuckles of his middle and index finger, mindful of the golden jewellery through it, and tugs just enough to send sparks skittering through her stomach, her thighs. “...No,” she says, quietly, and can’t disguise the edge of ragged vulnerability behind the word. “No, this is... this is fine. For now. I guess.”

For a second, she’s quiet, tipping her head back against Caleb’s shoulder and letting her thighs go lax and spread, enjoying the easy rhythm and pleasure of his fingers inside her, of his fingers teasing at her breasts. “But,” she adds, after the minute or so it takes her to get itchy again, “if you don’t make me come  _right now,_  I’m going to bite you again. Hard! And really high up. You’ll have to hide it with your scarf, or Jester will spend  _all_  week talking about it, and-”

Caleb laughs, huffing warmth against her neck, and settles his thumb to steady, gentle-firm circles over her clit, just as she likes it - a remarkably effective way to quiet her, muffling her words to low, satisfied groans and a curse under her breath. “As you wish,” he says, fondly, “ _Liebchen_.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **anonymous asked:** "Nott masturbating while she imagines that she's anything other than a goblin, because that's the only way that she can get off. (And if you want to write a short epilogue about the rest of the M9 convincing her that she's perfectly sexy as she is, I would be just fine with that.)"
> 
> in grand writer tradition, i wrote something... somewhat adjacent to that, but not quite. or rather, wrote just the epilogue, with just caleb, because i _much_ prefer writing about people making peace with their bodies than people hating them, especially when it comes to sex. also, i've been wanting to write nottleb for _ages_ now, and this was the perfect excuse.
> 
> come follow me @sparxwrites on tumblr for slightly more consistent updates than you'll get with ao3, plus stuff i don't crosspost over here.


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